


Coulson May Not be a Nanny but He’s Still Super

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Community: cliche_bingo, Coulson is Awesome, Explosions, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-23
Updated: 2012-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-02 09:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 times ways Coulson takes care of the Avengers and 1 time they took care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coulson May Not be a Nanny but He’s Still Super

**Author's Note:**

> Still trying to fill out that Cliche Bingo card. Written for slot #21: Character Study focused on Coulson.

1\. 

Tony rubbed at his eyes and but the screen remained blurry. The pounding of the rock music beat at counterpoint to the ache in his head. The click of the stereo being turned off made Tony jerk around in protest. Agent Coulson gave him an unimpressed look. 

“Get to sleep, Stark,” Coulson said mildly. “You‘ve been up for 54 hours now.”

Tony frowned. “I just need coffee. The damage to the suit doesn‘t repair itself.” He grinned and felt a little dizzy. “Yet!” 

Coulson watched him as he staggered over the coffee pot. Tony shucked the cold dregs from his last cup and poured himself more. He drained it in one long swallow and poured another cup. “I‘m fueled up and ready to go for several more hours.” 

Coulson shook his head and walked out.

Tony bent over to stare at the screen again which remained blurry. By the end of the hour, Tony had to jerk himself up three times and was caught twice by Dum-E before he hit the floor. 

“Are you really to go to sleep now?” Coulson asked right at Tony’s shoulder making him flail and swear. Coulson caught him before he fell out of his chair. 

“The coffee‘s not working,” Tony said mournfully, staring at the empty mug in betrayal. He didn’t fight as Coulson hauled him away. 

“I know,” Coulson said with a knowing smirk that made Tony squint at him suspiciously. 

“What did you do?” Tony grumbled, as they went up the stairs and towards his bedroom. 

“What makes you think I did something, Stark?”

“You have the smirk, the knowing bastard smirk,” Tony complained sleepily. “I know exactly what that smirk means. I see it all the time. You did something.”

JARVIS opened up the door to Tony’s bedroom without protest and Tony swore at the AI. Coulson dumped him on the bed giving him just enough courtesy to set him on his back so the arc reactor wouldn’t dig into him and also kept Tony’s massive pillows from suffocating him when he proved incapable of gathering up the energy to flip over.

“I‘m sure you can take it from here,” Coulson said, and turned on his heels to go.  
Tony mumbled nonsense and fell asleep.

Outside, Coulson’s smile widened and he headed back to Stark’s workroom to switch out the decaf coffee beans he‘d exchanged for Stark‘s regular beans before the man thought to check.

*-*-*-*  
2\. 

“Captain Rogers.”

Steve flinched in surprise, and rubbed his face to wipe away the tears before he turned to face Coulson. “Ah, how can I help you, Agent Coulson?”

Coulson considered him for a moment and Steve stiffened wondering what man was going to say. Instead, Coulson reached into his pocket. He held out his fist to Steve. He held out his palm and Coulson loosened his fist until a pair of dog tags slithered onto Steve’s hand. 

“They‘re replicas but they’re accurate,” Coulson said quietly. “I‘d thought you‘d like them anyway.”

Steve stared down at the tags and read ‘JAMES B BARNES’ and choked at the line for next of kin because it had his name. He couldn’t say anything past the lump in his throat. Coulson nodded at him and walked away.

*-*-*-*  
3\. 

Clint grunted as he hit the floor hard. He jerked to the side and missed a foot where his head had been. Natasha’s eyes narrowed and she flipped back as he kicked high. Clint leaped to his feet and swept away the blood trickling into his eyes. 

He bared his teeth at Natasha and she raised her chin in contempt. 

“Time out you two,” Coulson said.

“Stay out of this, Coulson,” Clint growled. 

“I‘m teaching Barton a lesson,” Natasha said coolly, then without so much as tensing she jumped high and kicked at Clint’s head, catching the edge of his chin with the heel of her boot. 

Clint’s teeth clicked painfully, but he’d known that move was coming and had turned in time to miss the full blow. He grabbed her foot as it went pass and yanked her to the side. Natasha twisted in mid-air. Clint threw himself after her. Natasha rose up to meet him.

Coulson grabbed them both and held them apart. “Enough!”

Clint and Natasha both had to hold back their reflexive attacks to escape Coulson’s grip. They glared at each other. “Enough,” Coulson repeated in a calmer voice. “You‘re both too angry to be fighting right now. You‘ll hurt each other.” 

“That‘s kind of the point,” Clint snarled. 

Coulson gave them both a glare. “I don‘t care. If you can‘t handle being in each other‘s presence then you‘re both confined to your rooms.”

“Fine,” Natasha said. 

Coulson gave Clint a particular nasty look until he muttered his own agreement. Coulson released his hold on them both. “Stop blaming yourselves and each other for the bad call. It happens. Neither of you are to blame.” 

Natasha and Clint both looked away.

“You have the next 24 hours off duty then I expect to see you both on the training grounds.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint said. 

Natasha nodded. Coulson watched them both walk away from each other before he sighed and went to find a mop to clean up the blood.

*-*-*-*  
4.

“Where are the sweet pastries called Pop Tarts?” Thor asked, as he opened up the cupboards in the kitchen. “I had several unopened boxes set away for a post-battle celebration.”

Coulson cleared his throat and signaled the five junior agents trailing behind him to enter. They each pushed a food cart which made Thor inhale deeply. The agents set out a whole roast chicken, honeyed ham, four pies: cherry, apple, blueberry and key lime, a basketful of rolls the size of a fist, three kinds of potato dishes, a salad bowl the size of a punch bowl and other assorted goodies that filled the large table to until it virtually groaned under the weight of everything. There was even a keg which the agent who’d brought it in tapped with efficient movements.

“If you don’t mind, I wanted to treat you to some Earth food,” Coulson said. “Consider it my thanks for the help you gave SHIELD last week.”

Thor sat at the table and beamed. “Truly this is a magnificent feast! If Volstagg could see me now he‘d be most envious.”

“Enjoy,” Coulson, signaling the junior agents to pull back.

“Wait, you should join me, my friend!” Thor cried.

Before Coulson could excuse himself, Tony, Steve and Bruce came into the kitchen.

“Oh, wow,” Bruce said, wide eyed at all the food. 

“Join me in this great feast provided by our friend Phil, the Son of Coul,” Thor said enthusiastically. In less than a minute they were sitting at the table, piling their high plates with food. 

Coulson quietly walked away as he heard Natasha wander in and Clint exclaim in delight. He made a mental note to sneak back _one_ box of pop tarts for Thor to have in the morning. He had the feeling there won’t be many leftovers left.

“JARVIS, continue to keep an eye on Thor‘s Pop Tart intake,” Coulson said. “And warn me again if he exceeds three boxes a day.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Also send me the list of the Avengers‘ weekly grocery list,” he added. “I need to make several additions, starting with hiring them a cook.”

*-*-*-*  
5.

Hulk’s roar of anger broke every piece of glass in the block. The faces of several buildings shattered to the ground and the windows on all the cars cracked with spider-webbed fractures.

Captain America shielded Natasha and Clint as shards of glass fell around them.

“Wait, sir! It’s not safe!” a junior agent said urgently to Coulson. 

“It‘s not our job to remain safe, agent,” Coulson said as he stepped away from the safety of SHIELD’s mobile command center. He pulled his Stark-Tech smart phone out of his pocket and called a number. He walked closer to the Hulk but didn’t say anything until he got the confirmation.

Hulk roared again and threw a car into the air. It sailed over the buildings and off into the distance. Considering the lack of crash when it landed, Coulson hoped that meant it had landed in the bay instead of it hitting something too far away for him to hear. 

“Hulk!” Coulson called out. “General Ross has been taken away.”

“Hulk hates Ross!” Hulk snarled, turning to Coulson. His big green face was twisted with rage. He roared again. “Hulk smash him!”

“That‘s not a smart idea, Coulson,” Iron Man warned through the Avengers comm. “He‘s too angry to be careful.” Tony had tried to get close only to be nearly swatted of the sky every time he came too near the Hulk.

“I know,” Coulson yelled back, ignoring Stark. “But you don‘t hate every Ross.” Coulson touched the screen on the phone which brightened the screen into a large image. He held the phone up to the Hulk’s growling face so he could see Betty Ross’s face beaming with a wide, sweet smile. 

“Bruce!” she called happily. The speakers of the phone were as loud as Coulson could make them.

The Hulk’s angry growling tapered off. “Betty,” he rumbled gently. He reached out a large green hand towards Coulson. He didn’t flinch. The Hulk took the phone from him with surprisingly delicacy. “Betty.”

“I‘m so happy you‘re safe! I was so worried for you!” Betty said. 

Slowly the green faded from the skin and he slowly shrank down to Bruce. He cradled the phone in his hands, his eyes wide with wonder as Betty talked to him. Tears gathered in his eyes as Betty explained how badly she’d wanted to talk to him for months and how her father had kept her locked away - for her own good apparently - until SHIELD found her.

Coulson watched him for a moment then he turned away to give orders to the SHIELD agents prodding them into action so they stopped staring and moved to secure the perimeter. Then Coulson called up the clean up crew to come on in, it was safe. Steve got the rest of the Avengers to work on reassuring the civilians who’d been caught in the crossfire between General Ross and the Hulk.

“Thank you,” Bruce said, handing back Coulson his phone. 

Coulson nodded and carefully ignored the streaks of clean skin Bruce’s tears had left on his face. “Any time, Doctor Banner. I‘m here to watch your back after all.”

Bruce nodded jerkily and let himself be wrapped up in a blanket by a hovering SHIELD agent. He was then escorted off the scene before the news crews showed up.

“Next time I see General Ross, I’m punching him in the face,” Tony growled, as Iron Man landed next to Coulson. “It‘d be worth the lawsuit and charge of assault.”

Coulson considered the destruction and no doubt mountain of paperwork which would soon be showing up in his desk because of the mess Ross had created by ambushing Banner. “Stark, we can do better than a punch,” he said mildly. 

“Oh? What do you have in mind?”

Coulson smiled toothily. “With your contacts in D.C. how much influence can you bring to bear to cut off his funding?”

The grin on Tony Stark’s face was wicked. “Coulson, I like how you think.”

*-*-*-*  
+1 - And Avengers cared for him.

Phil used to think he’d die by a bullet or explosion or a particularly inept superior officer who he couldn’t completely compensate for when he‘d been in the military. Even after joining SHIELD, his top ten picks for the way he’d probably die hadn’t really changed much. And as long as he got his number one pick - in the line of duty - he’d suspected he’d be just fine with how he bought it. After Fury put him in charge of handling the Avengers, the list gained some odd additions like dying by alien death ray, Doombots, or magic. But being killed by an explosion never got knocked off the top ten. 

So he was a little surprised to find himself buried alive under what had to be several tons of rubble having survived the explosion that had taken out the entire building. 

Phil woke up in a dimly lit place. He’d had to blink and coughed to clear his eyes and lungs of concrete dust. He looked around and stared up at two huge concrete slabs which had come together in an angle right above his head. He coughed again and the pain hit him. He gasped, and looked down his chest to see a foot of rebar sticking out of his guts. 

He touched the steel with shaky fingers. The pain which flared up made his vision tunnel until he managed to breathe through it.

“Bad idea,” he gasped.

The explosion had caught him in the stairwell as he’d been racing out of the building. So he knew where he was but now he needed to get that information out to someone who could do something about it. He moved carefully only to find his pockets empty of his phone and that his earpiece had fallen out at some point during the blast. He carefully pressed his hands to where the rebar stuck out to put pressure on the wound and he had to resist the ridiculous urge to laugh. Death by skewer hadn’t even made the list.

Phil held his hands in place and waited. 

He didn’t know how long he sat patiently, he wasn’t even sure how long he’d been unconscious, but what felt like hours crawled by slowly and he felt colder and colder with the passage of time, and the faint light which had survived the explosion sputtered and died. 

When Phil heard a noise that thrummed deep and low in his bones he thought it was the rubble shifting. He gave his head a shake to clear the gathering cobwebs and focused.

“Coulson!” Hulk bellowed again.

“Son of Coul! Answer us!”

“Here,” Phil whispered. He swallowed to wet his dry throat and tried again. “I‘m here!”

“Shut up! I‘ve got something,” Stark called.

“I‘m here!”

The rubble shifted and for a second Phil thought the concrete slabs above him would slip and finish him off after all but a large green hand caught them and lifted them away. Lights blinded him as they panned over him.

“Coulson!”

“He‘s here!”

Natasha slid down next to him. Clint followed at her heels. 

“He‘s hurt,” Natasha said into her earpiece. Her expression was grim as she took in the rebar and the blood all over him. She examined him with quick efficiency and professionalism only marred by the unhappy slant of her mouth.

“Glad to see you, sir,” Clint said lightly, as he watched Natasha cover the wound with a compression bandage. “You scared the hell out of us when we finally found out you were in here.”

“Yes, didn‘t get the chance to radio in before everything blew,” Phil said, smiling lightly.

“Black Widow, can we move him?” Steve asked from where he stood on the rubble. Phil could see him down to the large white star on his chest.

“Hulk can carry Coulson,” Hulk grumbled from above 

“Not yet, buddy,” Clint called up. “We‘ve got to free him from the rebar first.”

“We need something to cut him free,” Natasha said. “I don‘t want to risk pulling out yet. He‘s lost too much blood.”

“Rebar? Shit,” Tony said, he shifted the light around to center it on Phil’s stomach and the foot of rebar protruding out. “I‘ll get my portable plasma cutter. Don‘t go anywhere.”

“I‘ll try not to,” Phil said dryly.

“I‘ll warn the paramedics of his injuries,” Steve said and vanished from sight

“Don‘t worry, Coulson,” Clint said gently. Natasha took one of Phil’s hands and Clint grabbed the other.

Phil smiled at him and Natasha and even up at the peek of Hulk’s face of which he could only see worried green eyes. “I‘m not worried.” 

The next several minutes were blurry, and filled with pain as everyone worked to free him. As soon as Stark finished cutting him free, Phil blacked out.

Next time Phil woke he opened gummy eyes to the bright fluorescent lights of a hospital room. He wasn’t alone because curled up asleep on large padded chairs that looked nothing the usual hospital furniture were all the Avengers. 

Clint, Natasha, Bruce, Tony, Steve, and Thor were sleeping, and in some cases snoring, around his bed.

Phil smiled to himself and fell back to asleep.

End


End file.
